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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30143460">tangerine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stropharia/pseuds/stropharia'>stropharia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>They're gay, but make it a secret [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Idiots in Love, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Pet Names, Secret Relationship, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, there is a little plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:14:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30143460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stropharia/pseuds/stropharia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>George just wants to cuddle with his boyfriend, is that too much to ask?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>They're gay, but make it a secret [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2221380</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>497</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>tangerine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ayo more fluff because I can't help myself</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Muted apricot hues hang upon the sharp-cut edges of furniture and creamlike slopes of blankets. A strip of LED lights gleam throughout the highest point of George’s walls, providing a serene and comforting atmosphere as rain patters on the opposite side of an open window, saturating the room with hazy smells of humid flowers and dewy air. </p><p>Muffled hums of a melody play through small speakers in the corner of the room, mixed with the whistling breeze and delicate whispers emitted every so often. The harmony is soft and quiet, almost being drowned out fully by the two boys as they lay with one another. </p><p>It’s an early morning, the sun masked with overcast clouds and blossoming trees as it rises, and birds sing to signal the dawn of a new day. Neither of the boys had slept, watching the earth grow brighter with daybreak, laying entangled beneath George’s duvet to bask in the heat of each other all night. </p><p>It had been Dream’s idea to sneak across the hallway a few hours prior and spend some much-needed alone time away from Sapnap, who was oblivious to their little secret.</p><p>Okay, well, it was a rather <em>large </em>secret.</p><p>The idiots were dating.</p><p>It began as something virtuous, a light spark; experimental kisses late into the evening that neither would speak of the following day, sides pressed against each other as they watched a film in the living room, or even just lingering touches as they passed by the other.</p><p>But it grew into something more, a large flame that engulfed them both; short kisses turned into hitched gasps and infinite passion, pressed sides turned into laying chest-to-chest in the dead of night, and lingering touches were followed with knowing gazes.</p><p>The thrill of it all was new to the both of them. Exciting nonetheless, but new. </p><p>Thus the need to tell anyone hadn’t arisen yet; they didn’t want to risk whatever they had together, feeling comfort in their <em>little secret. </em>It gave them a charge of adrenaline when Sapnap would rattle the locked doorknob and call into the room whilst George was bruising his knees for the blond in front of him, or when they dragged the other around a corner to give a chaste kiss before returning to whatever task they were partaking in.</p><p>Hiding it seemed nearly fun in a way, but it was moments like these, where George curls into Dream’s arms, that he wishes Sapnap <em>did </em>know because Dream could then stay in George’s room and sing him to sleep. He could lay in his sheets and supply him the warmth and relaxation George coveted.</p><p>George’s head currently rests on Dream’s beating chest as his fingers trace meaningless patterns into the skin next to his face while Dream’s hand sifts through George’s brunet locks. The burnt orange LED’s remain beaming down upon the two and the gentle music still reverberates through the air. </p><p>They had laid like this for over several hours now, letting the faint rumble of thunder ease into their hushed conversations, but as the clouds began to grow brighter through the window and dawn established, the two knew Dream would have to leave shortly, being as Sapnap usually woke up earlier than they would drift to sleep.</p><p>George lets out a content sigh. “You should stay.”</p><p>Dream smiles. “I want to,” he says as he strains his neck to place a kiss on the crown of George’s head. “Believe me.”</p><p>“Then stay,” George murmurs into the blond’s chest, “we can deal with Sap tomorrow.”</p><p>The pair knew it was the lack of sleep talking when Dream only chuckled and continued brushing his fingers through George’s hair. George craned his neck to shift his focus onto the other’s tangerine-shaded profile, his eyes following the slope of his nose, grazing past the star-like pattern of freckles, and falling onto his pale, plush lips. He was gorgeous even with the eyebags that appeared from their passive night together.</p><p>George unconsciously smiles studying Dream’s faultless features.</p><p>“What?” Dream asks with his own smile gracing his cheeks.</p><p>“Nothing,” George giggles. “You’re just very pretty.”</p><p>“And <em> you’re </em>sleep-deprived.”</p><p>George chooses to ignore the comment and attempts to lay his head back down on the pillow he calls his boyfriend when the pillow has the nerve to <em>move</em>. “No,” George groans. “Don’t go.”</p><p>Dream proceeds to sit up straight and leave George’s face to plummet to the mattress beneath him, the heat from his body remaining in his wake. </p><p>“Baby, I have to.”</p><p>George stares up at him and frowns as he tries to guilt him through puppy-dog eyes and furrowed brows.</p><p>“Don’t worry, George,” Dream begins, pushing the dark hair on George’s forehead back to plant a lasting kiss on his widow’s peak, “we’ll see each other later.”</p><p>“But-” George tries to protest before the hand in his hair pulls back to rest a finger over his lips.</p><p>“Shh,” The blond smiles. “Go to sleep.”</p><p>“Can’t you just stay for one night? I’ll lock the door.”</p><p>“He’ll know,” Dream says, “and it’s not night anymore.”</p><p>“Shut up,” George pouts. “Lock your door too, he won’t know we’re together if he can’t get in either of our rooms.”</p><p>“You’re such an idiot,” Dream responds fondly as he scoots away from the brunet to the edge of the bed, “and what happens when he sees us leave from the same room?”</p><p>“We can figure that out later.”</p><p>Dream shakes his head and rises to his feet, much to George’s dismay, reaching down onto the floor to pick up his discarded t-shirt. He pulls it over and across his front, and runs a large hand through the golden strands that hung loosely over his eyes. A beautiful sight to be seen, really.</p><p>“Night, Georgie,” Dream winks as he shuffles towards the door.</p><p>“It’s not night.”</p><p>George can only watch as Dream scoffs and reaches for the handle, mouthing a soundless ‘idiot’ while he slips through the newly cracked-open entrance. The overhead bulb from the hallway floods into the room as Dream slips away; bisque yellow mixing with orange before he belatedly seals the opening between the two. George listens to his parting footsteps and the creaking of floorboards, sensing a throb of sadness with the stillness that followed.</p><p>The tune was still swimming through the damp air, mocking him at this point, and prompting George to unhappily disconnect his phone from the Bluetooth speaker and halt the soothing song. He chucked his phone somewhere into the rustled blankets and sighed at the emptiness beside him, the warmth of Dream’s body gradually splitting from the mattress.</p><p>A light roll of thunder echoed from outside the screened pane and a few leaves crinkled with the sounds of parting birds. He should probably shut the window.</p><p>Or he could just go to sleep...</p><p>He chose the latter.</p><p>Pillows now took over where Dream once rested as George fluffed them up alongside his body to be in the shape of his lover. He nestled close to the cotton cases and feathery contents, allowing himself to pretend Dream was there with him, easing him to sleep. He imagines Dream hugging him close while humming a low song and brushing his large palms across George’s back. He imagines Dream peppering small kisses atop his head while he eventually nods off with the feeling of being loved by the kindest man in the world. He imagines his earth-colored irises and his deep blond hair and his freckled nose and his toned arms.</p><p>He imagines the love of his life.</p><p>And it’s not enough because George wants him <em>here, </em>in his room, in his bed, and in person. Not confined to George’s ingenious mind. </p><p>Call him clingy, but the man wanted his boyfriend, was that too much to ask?</p><p>He cranks his tired eyes open to the low-spirited lights after a few painfully slow minutes and rolls away from the Dream substitute, finding himself upset at the personified pillows. His legs slide off the side of the bed and his feet brush against the cool, wooden ground before he pushes his weight against it and lazily stands to his feet. </p><p>He was cuddling with that motherfucker whether Dream liked it or not.</p><p>A crinkled, over-sized hoodie was soon thrown over George’s bare chest, effectively drenching him in a way he knew Dream wouldn’t be able to resist. The sweatshirt formerly belonged to the blond, so the fabric easily swallowed him whole and made him look rather lovable (he was going to be taking advantage of that fact). He dragged the hood up to perch on top of his tousled hair and pulled the drawstrings, tightening the opening around his face and concealing most of his head.</p><p>Go time.</p><p>The journey across his untidy floor was fairly uneventful, apart from the hinges squeaking noisily while he opened his door, he soon found himself tiptoeing along the short corridor to the younger’s bedroom. When he finally made it to the hollow slab of wood that stood between him and Dream, the plan he had formed seemed to be much harder in practice than in theory. A thick bubble of nervousness formed in his gut with endless concepts now running his mind.</p><p>What if Dream didn’t want him there? What if he thought George was being annoying?</p><p>He lingered in front of the door for longer than he cared to admit, thinking over plausible reasons as to why he should just turn around and go back to his room to lay on his lone mattress. Every time he raised his arm to carefully knock, he hesitated and brought his arm back down to his side. Who knew an entrance could be this intimidating?</p><p>Dream was technically right, they <em>would </em>be seeing each other later, so maybe he should just leave. Maybe he should go back to his humid room and chilled sheets and orange lights and-</p><p>The door opened. Oh god, the door opened and George was standing there like an idiot.</p><p>“George?”</p><p>George’s gaze was still centered directly in front of him where the door had been, now settling on Dream’s chest as he replaced the space. He gradually ran his eyes up the tall man, passing his collarbones and neckline to land on his face and make dreaded eye contact.</p><p>He had a smug smile draped over his cheeks whilst peering down at George, elevating his eyebrows, tauntingly almost. Words seemed to have left the brunet as he was caught blankly standing there, leaving him sputtering.</p><p>“I-I, uh, Sor-”</p><p>“Aw, Georgie,” Dream laughs. “Did someone miss me?”</p><p>He instantly felt his features flush intense red with embarrassment as the other proceeded to wheeze and giggle at his expense. </p><p>“Stop it,” George groaned, crossing his arms to mirror an upset child. “Stop being mean.”</p><p>“I’m not being mean,” Dream says, though he’s still laughing.</p><p>“You are.”</p><p>“Oh come on,” he scoffs, “are you coming in or what?”</p><p>“Not if you keep making fun of me.” George was bluffing, of course, but it was entertaining to watch the way Dream’s grin quickly downturned and the space between his eyebrows creased.</p><p>“No, no, no,” Dream rushes out, “I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”</p><p>George glares up at him before shouldering past his large frame to enter the space. His bedroom was nothing like George’s; delightful fragrances and pigments didn’t fulfill the air as he entered, alternatively it was dark and dry with a vague notion of rich cologne. But it screamed <em> Dream </em>in the best way possible and that’s all he could really ask for at that moment.</p><p>“You can’t be mad when Sap has questions later,” Dream says while he shuts the door behind him and locks it, the faint click solidifying their privacy and seclusion. George ignores his statement and treads to the unmade bed in the corner, mindful to not trip over the slew of stray cords and objects on the ground.</p><p>He stops when he reaches the edge of the mattress and rotates back towards the door to make weak grabby hands at the blond. “Come here.”</p><p>Dream smiles ever so fondly and does a light, little jog to George who remained holding his arms out to the taller. When he situates himself in front of him, George wraps his limbs around Dream’s waist and presses his cheek against his chest.</p><p>“You’re cute when you’re tired,” Dream chuckles, enveloping him in a hug.</p><p>“And you’re <em> mean </em>when you’re tired.”</p><p>“I am not, you idiot.”</p><p>“See.”</p><p>George didn’t have to look up to know Dream rolled his eyes in the way he always did, paired with a short scoff and shake of his head. </p><p>They stood like that for a few careless minutes; George squeezing his hold on the man tighter every so often and Dream cradling his fabric-covered head. The brunet’s lids already began growing heavy with the melodious motion of their swaying and the heat from Dream’s body.</p><p>He felt the strain of being awake all night finally settle deep behind his eyes and the sound of rain hitting the roof only pushed him further into his sleepy state. Dream seemed to pick up on that matter as he pried George’s head away and held his jaw in his hands, murmuring a low, “Hey, let’s get you to bed, huh?”</p><p>George could only nod a tired confirmation and rub his eyes as Dream unknotted the bow underneath his chin and removed the hood from his crown to fall loosely behind his neck. An extended, freckled hand rose to ruffle George’s now-exposed, plumed hair and left the strands to rest over his forehead, almost reaching into his fluttering eyelashes.</p><p>“Why do you always do that to me?” George murmurs, too tired to put up a fight like he usually would.</p><p>“Because,” Dream drawls, “you’re adorable.”</p><p>George flusters immediately at the words, leading his small, ivory hands upward to mask his blushed-out cheeks. “Stop it,” he mutters through his fingers.</p><p>“What? You tell me to stop being mean and now I can’t be nice either?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Dream grabs George’s thin wrists in an effort to force his hands away, “but you <em> are, </em> George.” The blond wheezes, “you’re cute and pretty-” George groans. “-and beautiful and gorgeous and <em> small.” </em></p><p>“I hate you.”</p><p>“No, you don’t.” </p><p><em> Obviously</em>, George didn’t hate him, he quite liked the compliments, really. He would never admit to it, however, and Dream understood that; they both knew George would never reveal to liking the hair-ruffles, or the winks, or the suggestive comments here and there. He loved everything Dream did, there was no way he could <em>hate </em>the man.</p><p>“Whatever,” is all George replies, affection in his tone as he rolls his lidded eyes.</p><p>Dream releases his grip on the smaller’s wrists to instead relocate his hands and cup George’s cheeks, holding the boy’s face equivalent to how a tiny child might hold a large snowglobe. He leans in closer, bowing his back slightly for their generous height difference, and uses his grip on George’s face to pull the shorter upwards and stand on his tiptoes. Their noses brush gently and they both giggle like idiots before Dream ultimately brings their lips together, still grinning as he kisses the brunet.</p><p>The taste of peaches and sugar dance on their tongues when their mouths lock; that sting of exhaustion lost and forgotten behind George’s sealed eyes with the firm pressure of Dream’s lips against his.</p><p>The kiss is short and sweet, a mere peck more than anything, before they subsequently part to beam and gaze at one another like love-sick dorks.</p><p>“You’re so stupid,” George whispers through an airy laugh.</p><p>“You’re so pretty.”</p><p>“Whatever,” George says again, as he belatedly buckles his knees to drop level onto the bed behind him, leaving Dream’s grasp. He bounces a few times due to the lack of a heavy body mass and nearly knocks his head into the wall beside the mattress. “Can we go to sleep now?”</p><p>“So bossy,” Dream replies, shoving the brunet over so he can climb underneath the covers.</p><p>George shuffles around on the bed, reaching under the blankets with the sounds of rustling sheets supplying the room. He tosses and turns, fluffs up his pillow, kicks his feet, and <em>finally </em>becomes satisfied after two minutes of shifting, discovering a comfortable position on Dreams chest. Dream glares down at him when he eventually stills and George only laughs with a faint <em>‘sorry’. </em></p><p>One of Dream’s hands shortly finds a home on the small of George’s back, tracing small circles with his thumb and smoothing any wrinkles in the giant sweatshirt as the brunet settles back into the same heated embrace from across the hall.</p><p>“Good night, Dream,” George mumbles with a contented smile.</p><p>“It’s not night, George.”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up.”</p><p>The dim room fills with quiet notes of Dream’s wheezing and George’s meager huffs. Hazy breathing follows when the two boys eventually shut their eyes and float to sleep; George happier now that he had managed to get what he wanted, and Dream equally as happy, being as he wanted this all along and was planning to go to George’s room when he had opened the door, only to find him standing there already.</p><p>But George didn’t have to know that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ode to George's fluffy hair<br/>-<br/>Please leave comments and criticisms, they are always welcome :)</p><p>follow me on my new  <a href="https://mobile.twitter.com/stropharia_">Twitter</a> and i’ll give u a smooch</p></blockquote></div></div>
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